


a king is held captive in the tresses

by procellous



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Breeding Kink, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub, F/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pregnancy Kink, Robb Stark is King in the North, Rough Sex, Spanking, Title Kink, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:22:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27614111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/procellous/pseuds/procellous
Summary: The first time they laid together, he was so gentle, so kind, touching her as though she were glass. She’s hardened into strong steel; now, he treats her so wonderfully roughly, her wolf-husband.
Relationships: Robb Stark/Jeyne Westerling
Comments: 8
Kudos: 25





	a king is held captive in the tresses

**Author's Note:**

> found this in my drafts and went "hang on this is completed why haven't I published this yet"
> 
> might write some more in this verse someday…who knows

Jeyne’s never gotten used to the heavy dresses of the North. It’s always a relief to go back to her chambers at the end of the day and get undressed for bed. Her nightgown was a gift from her goodsister; plain linen trimmed with lace, with a pair of small embroidered wolves at the collar and a scallop-shell pattern at the hem. Sansa might be her favorite part of marrying Robb. 

Well. Second favorite. 

Robb is waiting for her, sitting on the edge of their bed, watching her stripping down with a hunger in his bright blue eyes. She feels a bit like she’s going to be devoured as she walks to him, feels his hands closing around her hips. He draws her in for a rough kiss. 

The first time they laid together, he was so gentle, so kind, touching her as though she were glass. She’s hardened into strong steel; now, he treats her so wonderfully roughly, her wolf-husband. He knows she won’t easily break. She knows that too, now, and it’s freeing in a way she never thought possible. 

“Is Theon joining us tonight?”

“No, he’s busy,” Robb replies. “He and Sansa are still pretending I don’t know what they get up to when he’s not with us.”

“Like I pretend you don’t know what Sansa and I do together?”

“And Sansa pretends she doesn’t know what I do with Theon.” It’s a strange arrangement they have, the four of them, but it’s a happy one. 

He pushes her nightgown off of her shoulders, baring her breasts. His beard scratches her soft skin as his mouth trails lower, to her neck and then down to her breasts. She can feel herself growing wet, heat pooling in her belly, as he nips at her. 

Her back hits the mattress with a soft thud, and he’s pinning her down, grinning at her as she squirms. His arms and shoulders are solid muscle, easily able to lift her up whenever he pleases and move her to wherever he pleases. 

She thinks, sometimes, that she shouldn’t like that quite so much. 

Robb pulls her nightgown all the way off, tossing it aside. It always feels a little strange to have thick furs beneath her instead of a quilt; like he’s taking her out in the woods, fucking her like an animal. She presses her legs together, trying to relieve some of the ache with soft pressure, like when she was a girl alone in her bed, only to find his hand on her thigh, dragging her legs back apart again. 

Jeyne whines, but Robb only chuckles and bites her neck, his hands roving up and down her body. 

They pause at her stomach, and she knows what he’s felt. 

“Jeyne,” he says, his voice a rumbling growl from deep in his chest, “are you with child?”

She nods, caught. 

“And how long have you known, sweet girl?”

“A moon,” she whispers. “I was trying to find the right time to tell you, you’ve been so busy lately. We’ve barely had time to ourselves.”

“You should have told me immediately,” he scolds. “You being with child is of the utmost importance. I’ll have to punish you for this. You’ve been a naughty girl, keeping secrets from your king.”

She gasps in feigned horror. “Oh, please,” she begs. “Have mercy, Your Grace.”

He smacks her thigh. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. Roll over. You’re going to count every strike like a good girl, and if you can manage that, I might be more lenient with the rest of your punishment.”

She rolls over, lifting herself up on her hands and knees. “Will it be your hand or your belt, Your Grace?”

“My hand. I don’t want to harm the precious little thing you’re carrying. But, in light of that…” She hears the drawer open and glances over to see him taking out the collar and cuffs and chains they sometimes use. “I really can’t allow you to leave this bed until I make sure that it’s safe for you to do so.”

Jeyne closes her eyes, trying not to squirm with want as he secures the collar around her neck and the cuffs around her wrists, stringing a chain from the ring on her collar to the headboard.   
“How long will I be staying here?”

He squeezes her ass roughly. “As long as pleases me. Now, I think one blow for every day you kept this from me will do to start. A moon, you said?”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Then we should get started, shouldn’t we?” The first blow stings, and she gasps in shock and pleasure. 

“One, Your Grace.” 

“Good.” He strikes again, and she can’t help the moan that escapes her.

“Two, Your Grace.” She presses her thighs together, hoping for some relief. Robb grabs her ankle. 

“None of that,” he says, forcing her knees apart and securing a pair of cuffs to her ankles. “Much better. You’ll keep that pretty little cunt of yours on display for me.” His fingers stroke along her folds. “You’re soaking wet. Do you enjoy this? Being on your hands and knees, bound and beaten?”

“I do,” she says, “please, I need— _ah_!” His hand strikes, sudden sharp pain drowning out everything else for a moment. “Three, Your Grace.” 

She closes her eyes, and lets herself drift into a slight fog, where all that matters is sweet pain and sharp pleasure and the steadily-rising number. By the time she gasps out “Twenty-eight, Your Grace,” her ass is sore and her thighs are sticky with her own wetness. 

“Gorgeous,” Robb says, rubbing her sore ass. “Look at you, so pretty for me. Do you want me to fuck you, darling girl?”

“ _Please_ ,” she moans. 

“Good answer.” She can’t see him, but she can feel him moving on top of her, ready to take her from behind. His hand presses against her stomach. “Look at you. You can try to hide this for now, but your body will betray you. Just like how you pretend to be the perfect, modest little lady, but your body betrays just how much you love being fucked from behind like an animal. Bred like one, too, now. And I can’t wait until you’re bigger, struggling to fit into those pretty gowns you wear, so that everyone can see how well you spread your legs. They’ll be staring at you while I hold court, imagining you spread out for me, dripping wet.”

She gasps, picturing the scene he describes; she’ll be wearing a fine gown, the skirt draped over the huge swell of her belly, and sitting beside her husband, the picture of a queen. All the lords’ eyes will be on her, though, not on her husband as he dispenses justice from his throne; they’ll be watching her with hungry gazes as she grows wetter and wetter, squirming in hopes of some relief, until at last Robb will call for a recess, and bend her over and fuck her there, in front of the whole of the court, on her hands and knees, her braid wrapped around her fist, just like she is now. She’ll squirm on his cock eagerly, opening her mouth for another cock. Theon will step forward, ready to help his king, and she’ll be filled from both ends…

“You’re imagining it, aren’t you?” he breathes. “I can feel you getting wet. Your pretty pink cunt is dripping. Tell me what you’re picturing.”

“I…You’re holding court, but everyone is watching me, instead, because I’m so full of your babe and they can all see it. You call a recess and bend me over in front of your throne, on my hands and knees like this, and you fuck me for all your lords to see.”

“And that makes you wet, darling? Being taken publicly, on your hands and knees? That’s not very ladylike, is it?”

“No, my king, it’s not ladylike.”

“What are you, then? Not a lady at all, are you?”

“No, my king, I’m not a lady, I’m a…” Her voice trails off before she can say the word. 

His hand cracks against her ass. “Say it.”

“A whore, my king,” she gasps, her face red. 

“And you want to be fucked like one, too, don’t you?”

“ _Please_ ,” she moans. “I want—I need—your cock, please, my king.”

His sword-calloused hand wraps around her throat as his cock slides into her. She’s never quite gotten used to how incredibly good his cock feels inside her, their bodies slotting together like two pieces of a whole. Nobody ever told her how wonderful her marriage bed would be.

They also never told her that she’d be sharing a lover with her husband or fucking his Hand, but she knows that’s not typical. 

Robb’s teeth dig into the side of her neck, biting and sucking until a dark red mark blooms. Some distant part of her wonders how she’ll hide that. The overwhelming rest of her wants everyone to see her husband-king’s mark on her. 

“You’re not going to hide your belly anymore,” he growls in her ear, “I want everyone to see how full you are. And there’s another part of your punishment, my wanton little whore. You’re not allowed to peak.” He thrusts viciously inside her. 

“Please, no, I want—” It’s an opening, and she knows it is. 

“Oh, I know you _want_ to, darling. You can peak tomorrow, if I decide you’ve been good. Or perhaps I’ll keep you wet and waiting until you give birth. Maybe even after, too. I could keep you on that edge until you go mad with it.”

Jeyne moans, her head dropping down to her bound wrists. Robb’s thrusts grow harder, more vicious. His hands leave red marks on her breasts and hips; his mouth finds the soft spots on her neck and shoulders. She moans, rolling her hips back, trying to take him deeper, harder. She’s so close…

He stops entirely, laughing softly. “Sweet girl, I told you, you’re not going to peak tonight.” He kisses the back of her neck when she whines, letting her catch her breath, the peak slipping away. 

“You’re so mean,” she complains without heat. 

“You love it,” he reminds her, which is true. 

He starts thrusting again, slowly, gently, making her whine and beg and plead for more, faster, my king, _Robb_ —

By the time he’s kept her from coming twice more, she’s trembling, her thighs wet and slightly sticky from her own slick, and her vision is blurred with tears. 

Robb kisses the back of her neck as he pulls out entirely. She whines at the loss, high in the back of her throat. 

“Shh, darling,” he soothes, “I know, I know, you’ve been so good. Roll over for me, I want to see you.”

The chain twists in on itself as she moves, the links bumping into each other with soft clicks. Robb re-chains her, spreading her arms out as he does and chaining her by her wrists to the headboard. Jeyne shifts against them experimentally. She can’t move her arms more than an inch in either direction. This is new—she’s been chained before, but he’s always left her more slack than this. 

It’s exciting. 

“Beautiful,” he whispers, kissing her softly and brushing his hand over her cheek. “My beautiful wife, look at you, I want to keep you like this forever.”

Her cunt clenches around nothing. Her whole body aches with the need for release. “Please,” she whimpers. 

His mouth finds her breast, suckling gently with just the barest brush of teeth over the soft, sensitive skin. She moans, arching up into his mouth. 

Robb slides back in, his thick cock filling her so well. He thrusts a few times before spending, pushing deep inside her with a grunt. He lies there for a moment, breathing ragged, and slowly pulls out. 

“I love you,” he murmurs, kissing her temple as he fumbles in the nightstand drawer for a soft rag. He carefully wipes away his seed and her slick from her thighs.

“I love you too. Even though you’re very mean and didn’t let me peak.”

“You were very mean! You’ve known you were with child for a month and didn’t say anything to me.” He runs his hand over the subtle swell of her belly, face breaking into a helpless grin.

“We’re going to have a _baby_.”

“I think it’s going to be a boy. An heir to your throne.”

“I’d make sure our daughter could inherit, too.” He hasn’t stopped smiling once, his hands on her belly. “I haven’t even seen them yet and I already love them so much,” he confesses. “Isn’t that strange?”

“Not really,” Jeyne says. “I feel the same.”

He lies down beside her, his hand still on her stomach. “Do you think the baby can hear us?”

“I hope not, considering all the sex we just had.” She can feel her cheeks pinking, and Robb’s are coloring as well.

He kisses her belly just below her navel, his beard pricking at her skin. “Hello, baby, I’m your father,” he whispers. “If you heard all that sex, well, I love your mother very much.” He grins up at Jeyne, kissing lower and lower until his mouth is pressed against her clit. “And since she’s been a very good girl, I’m going to make her scream.”

Two of his fingers delve into her as he laps at her, alternating broad strokes with the flat of his tongue with narrower strokes from the tip, sucking gently in between. It doesn’t take much for her to peak, still sensitive from his teasing: the metal links bite into her palms as she clutches at them, crying out Robb’s name. 

Robb looks up at her, slick smeared around his mouth and shining in his beard, and gives her a lopsided grin. “Did my queen enjoy herself?” he asks. 

Jeyne heaves for breath. “She did.” She gives him a smile in return. “And now she’s exhausted, and wants to sleep. Come cuddle your queen.”

“In a moment.” Robb unchains her, tucking the cuffs and collar away in their chest. “There, now I’ll come cuddle you.” He curls himself around her and pulls the furs over them. “I still can’t believe you kept this to yourself for an entire moon.”

“You’ve been so busy since we reclaimed Winterfell, I didn’t want to interrupt you working. And it was so early, I didn’t want to give you false hope if I lost it.”

“Jeyne, you can always interrupt me. Especially for something like this, I want to know. And I can’t stand the thought that you’d be alone if something did happen. At least tell me I’m the first to know?”

“You are,” she assures him. “Aside the wolves, I think they knew before I did.”

He sighs. “At least I know before Theon does, he’d never let me live it down.”

She cuddles closer. “We’ll tell them in the morning.”


End file.
